


I Should Assume It's Still Unsteady

by summerstorm



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-23
Updated: 2008-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Robin thinks eventually can be put off forever, and other people know better than she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Should Assume It's Still Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Kristin for the beta, and John Mayer for the title. 
> 
> Written for zelempa

 

 

Now, kids, I've mentioned Aunt Robin's strained relationship with her dad, but I haven't told you the story about how she came to terms with that.

When your aunt Robin was unemployed and living in my apartment, she spent a lot of time sitting around and pointing either the TV remote or a beer at the screen when the TV was off. She said it gave her the illusion of having something important to procrastinate on without making her one of those pathetic girls who sat around all day eating junk food, getting even fatter, convincing themselves that watching daytime soaps counted as hanging out with friends.

So when I came home to find no trace of Robin, and instead see your aunt Lily spring up from the couch, tilt her head a little to the left and say,

"Ted!"

with the widest, most suspicious of her grins, you can guess that I wasn't exactly thrilled.

  


*

Lily was making breakfast when Robin showed up. It was Saturday, and Lily wasn't expecting her.

"Robin," Lily said, surprised, as she went to open the door and Robin came through. "S'there something wrong?"

She had almost forgotten about breakfast when she heard several noises coming from the kitchen and assumed that Marshall had smelled the smell of possibly burnt pancakes and gotten up and on to the rescue.

Lily sat down next to Robin and reached to touch her arm comfortingly.

"Ew," Robin said, withdrawing. Lily realized that her fingers were covered in half dry syrup.

"Sorry," Lily apologized. She licked her fingers. "I was hungry. Go on."

"My father's coming to the city for Christmas," Robin announced with a dry snort, as if she couldn't believe what she had just said.

"Christmas in late January?" Marshall asked, coming out of the kitchen with a tower of pancakes and offering Robin a mug of hot coffee.

"Thanks," she said, and took a swig. "Yes, Christmas in late January. He's already like fifteen years late, it's not like a month really means that much." Marshall gave a nod in acknowledgment. "And I have no job, no boyfriend, no apartment — he's gonna have a field day with this. I wasn't good enough as a boy and I'm not good enough as a girl either."

"Oh, Robin," Lily said, reaching to pat her back.

"Don't," Robin warned.

"Sorry," Lily said, retreating. "I mean, you're a great person. You have some really good friends and you're the best thing that could happen to any network in the country — no, in the _world_. You're just going through a rough patch, that's all."

"I've been going through a rough patch for months," Robin said. "When I pictured meeting my father again, I — well, I imagined something happened and he couldn't make it, like the plane was delayed forever or something — but I also thought I'd have my life together and I would be successful and he'd realize it didn't matter that I wasn't a boy because I was awesome anyway," Robin said.

"You _are_ awesome anyway," Marshall said around a mouthful of pancake. Lily threw him a reproachful glare.

"You are awesome on your own right," she said to Robin. "Ask anyone. Ask Ted. Ask _Barney_ ," Lily said pointedly. Robin frowned. "Or, you know, don't. But if — _when_ your dad sees you, he's gonna take one good look at you, and he's gonna think, 'I wish I hadn't missed this wonderful woman's life'," she stated.

Robin looked down at her hands as if pondering this.

"And now would be the moment where I'd squeeze your knee in a friendly, comforting fashion, but I assume you don't want me to?"

Robin shook her head. Lily shrugged.

"So," Marshall said. "Who wants pancakes?"

  


*

Lily got up and ready to go. She wasn't feeling all that brave anymore.

"So why didn't she tell me?" Ted asked. He was sitting on the armchair with his coat still on. There was something wrong with the heating system, and he hadn't had time to figure out what yet.

"Well, that's not all," Lily said, making a face. "She kind of overdosed on Marshall's pancake syrup and had an idea."

"What kind of idea?" Ted asked plainly.

"If I remember this right, uh, she told me to tell you that if her father showed up here, you should say that you're her boyfriend, and this is her apartment, and— and that she designs buildings for your firm. Which is _her_ firm, because you're unemployed. If he asks about that you can just show him your— your drawings or something."

" _What_?" Ted asked, this time sounding offended. Lily grimaced again and opened the door.

"Don't get mad at me, I'm just the message-bearer," Lily said, and quickly left.

Ted wasn't mad at her, just a little baffled, which wasn't helped at all by Robin finally coming home and telling him that she had a job interview, but he should still tell her father that she was in architecture if he saw him, because she already had.

"It's not like you're gonna see him again, Ted," Robin said with a nervous chuckle. "I mean, what's it to you? Right? Right? Help a friend out," she said, and shut herself into her room.

  


*

"Where's Robin?" Barney asked, slipping into the booth next to Ted, who saluted with his beer.

"She has an Audition," Ted announced solemnly. Lily glared at him.

"She's trying out for a job at some other low-profile, no-one-ever-watches-this-but-I-get-paid local channel," Lily explained. "Don't laugh at her. She needs a job."

"I don't think the job really needs her, though," Marshall pointed out, "I mean, they pushed the audition back seven hours. That's not exactly orthodox."

"But Robin really needs this, what with everything that's been going on," Ted said. "We shouldn't mock her."

"You're just saying that because you don't want to— to lie to her father," Lily accused him. 

And it was true. The job was still really crappy, though, whatever it was, and even Lily couldn't remember the name of the channel, although Robin had mentioned it about fifteen times with different levels of distaste during the week.

Barney perked up.

"What about her father?" he asked.

"He's coming to town," Marshall said in a bored tone. "This weekend, apparently. Considering Robin she'll probably make a lame excuse to not see him anyway, I don't know why we're so worried about her." He got up to get a drink, and Ted went with him.

"So she'll be needing comfort this weekend," Barney remarked to Lily.

"Don't even think about it," Lily warned. "She's gonna sort it all out with him, and she's gonna feel better, and she's gonna kick your ass if you suggest a thing." She seemed to ponder this. "So maybe you should," she said.

Barney made a puffing noise. "Please. She's going to look at him and she's going to be so scared she is going to _run_ into my bed."

"Save it," Lily said. "I know you don't really want to get to her through one of your sleazy little schemes." She nodded at him pointedly, and Marshall and Ted came back just in time to see Robin rush into the bar and sit down soundly on the stool.

"So how'd the audition go?" Ted asked.

"It was stupid," Robin said with a scowl, and asked the waitress for a scotch. "They wanted me to interview the _cameraman_. Who was like a hundred years old and kept shaking the camera at me." Robin paused for a second. "I think he may have been trying to tell me something. Anyway, it was stupid. They're doing a show about themselves." The waitress came back, and Robin took a large gulp of her drink. "Who does a show about themselves? They're not even famous — it's like cutting your already nonexistent audience down by half." She paused. "I'm pretty sure not even their families watch them. Seriously, I don't see how you can make a show about a network if no one _watches_ the network in the first place."

"Aaron Sorkin did it," Ted pointed out.

"I don't see how you can make a _good_ show," Robin remarked.

"It was a great show—"

"Ted, I love you, but just because a show's got pretentious bullshit in buckets doesn't mean it's any good."

"It was a great show," Ted stated, and Robin was about to reply when Marshall interrupted.

"Guys, guys," he said. "Robin needs our support." He tilted his head and Ted looked at Robin compassionately. Robin glared at him.

"Pfft, Robin doesn't need your support," she said, downing the rest of her drink. "Robin's feeling awesome." She gestured with her glass for the waitress and called out, "Another scotch, please?"

  


*

Marshall, Lily and Ted had gone off to bed and Robin was halfway to drunk and obviously didn't care that Barney kept watching her, because she wasn't going to sleep with him again, and he'd done his best to suggest that he didn't have anywhere to go.

"I think you've lost your magic," Robin stated. "I mean, a dozen new girls in the bar, and not a single one has so much as looked at you."

" _I_ don't care for any of the dozen," he said.

"Right," Robin said, snorting. "I'm not gonna sleep with you again."

"Whatever," Barney drawled. "I was going to offer you my help with your dad, but if you feel you won't be able to resist me, working so close to me, I completely understand."

Robin straightened herself up and urged him to go on.

"Here's the deal: you move into my apartment for the week. Pack enough for a month, so it looks like you're living there. Obviously you'll have to sleep on the couch, but still. Do you really think having Ted as a boyfriend and living in that kind of apartment is something to be proud of? Your dad will be floored when he sees my awesome TV. I have a channel where it's all hockey, all the time." 

Robin chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea, but thanks."

Barney didn't press the issue. Her loss.

"Come here," he offered, laying out his arm for Robin to sit next to him and snuggle in. She was a friendly drunk and they were in public, so it didn't count as using his sleazy ways on her. Not that he cared about that.

Robin took that offer.

"Honestly, I don't want to _floor_ him. I don't even know what I want him to see," she muttered.

"You don't want him to see anything," Barney observed. "Really, do you care what he thinks of you right now? I thought your problem was that you'd never talked to him about how he raised you."

"Yeah," Robin said.

"You could probably get away with meeting him at the airport, or some other neutral place. Have a cigar and a conversation." Robin snorted. "Tell him what you want to tell him. And then you can move on to the 'This is me now' stuff."

"That... that actually makes sense," Robin said, looking up at him with a curious face.

"I know," Barney murmured.

  


*

Lily came by Ted's apartment as soon as she could get away from the school, which wasn't any earlier than usual seeing how they had to have strict timetables for the kids.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked Robin as she sat down, and Robin paused the movie she was watching.

"I think maybe I shouldn't have invited my dad over," she said.

"Why?"

"Because if I do, it's all gonna be about how I'm wasting my life and living in a crappy apartment with a guy who's the opposite of manly."

"Oh, Robin," Lily said, laying Robin's head on her shoulder and running her fingers through her hair. "I don't know why you're feeling so insecure about this. You're great. You're smart and you're beautiful and you're great, and it doesn't matter that you don't have a job right now, or— or that you're single, because you're still smart and beautiful and eventually someone will see that and hire you and marry you."

"Hopefully not the same person," Robin said with a chuckle. Lily had to agree.

"Come on," Lily said. "He's flying in today, right?"

"Yeah," Robin said. "His plane should get here in about an hour."

"We can make it to the airport on time," Lily said. "Get this over with."

Robin was going to say no at first, because it was too soon and no one in their right mind went headlights first into their worst fears, but then she said 'Okay' anyway, because it would have to happen eventually, and this was as good a time as any.

  


*

Ted was about to leave for his date with Jillian, Lily's co-worker, when Robin and Lily burst into the apartment.

"Where's your dad?" Ted asked.

"His flight was delayed," Robin explained. Then she noticed that Barney was sitting on the armchair, and checking his watch, now looking up at her.

"By six hours?" he questioned.

"We went shopping," Lily said as an explanation, and practically fell down on the couch. "And then we had to drop the shopping at my apartment. My feet are killing me."

"You shouldn't have worn those heels to run around the airport," Robin remarked, throwing herself beside Lily and eying her as if she had done nothing wrong, ever. "Airports are huge, scary places."

Ted came back from the kitchen and sat on a chair. Barney coughed.

"Oh, about my father," Robin said. "He's not flying with that company anymore. He's booked another flight for Friday."

"He's drawing out the pain," Lily complained.

"Nah, it's fine," Robin said. "He just doesn't want to fly with an airline that had a flight delayed, because it shows, uh, irresponsible, improper and inadequate service, and God knows whether he would have got poisoned by the food on the plane."

"And there was still an airline left to book?" Barney asked. Robin snickered.

"He doesn't fly much," Robin explained. "So anyway, Ted, I told him I broke up with you and moved out, so you don't have to pretend I'm your girlfriend anymore." Ted blinked.

"Seriously?"

"Yep. I also didn't give him an address, though, so he might still pop up and you'll still have to tell him I'm some sort of building designing genius."

"Okay," Ted said incredulously. "Just, for the record, what am _I_ to your father, exactly?" Robin coughed.

"Unemployed," she said in a thread of voice.

"I didn't know you'd told him that!" Lily said. "That wasn't a very good idea." She clicked her tongue, and then realized it would have been better if she'd held it.

"Why not?" Robin asked, curiously now that Lily had pulled such an apologetic face.

"Because then whatever he says about Ted," supplied Barney, "you can take it to mean about you." Lily glared at him.

"Thanks, Barney," she said sarcastically. "Don't listen to him," she continued, turning to Robin. "It's not really true. It's totally different."

The bell rang.

"That's my date," Ted announced, and sprang up from the chair.

  


*

Ted came back from work to see Robin looking at a blank screen while drinking beer.

"How'd the interview go?" he asked.

"I blew it off," Robin said. She didn't look or sound particularly bothered by the fact, more like — apathetic.

"What? Why?" Ted asked, leaving his keys on the table near the door and taking off his coat. "Robin, you're not gonna get a job if you lie on the couch all the time and blow off your interviews," he said. Robin looked at him as if ready to throw a verbal punch.

"They called me earlier today and asked if I was willing work with, get this," and she enunciated: "live tarantulas." Ted laughed, and Robin glared at him.

"And you weren't?" he asked supportively, putting on a serious face.

"Well, it's not that I hate tarantulas," Robin said. "They're beautiful and furry and everything, but I'm not sure I want to go back to that... kind of thing."

"Japan flashbacks?" Ted asked. Robin nodded with a grimace. "Well, you did good skipping it. You don't need a job that much, do you?"

Robin looked up, and the realization seemed to dawn on her that no, she didn't need a job that much. The right job existed, and it would show up eventually, and she shouldn't have to waste her time on pointless interviews, even though she wasn't really spending it any more productively at home. That wasn't the point, though. The point was that she was good and she was qualified and someone would have to see it eventually, and it wasn't her fault that they hadn't yet.

She grinned.

"No, I don't," she said. "Thanks, Ted." And she got up from the couch, went to her room, came out with a copy of _Network_ and turned on the TV.

  


*

Ted called Marshall in the middle of an interview with a potential secretary for Nolan, and Marshall politely blew her off and went to find Barney. She wasn't qualified despite the cleavage, anyway, and he still had some standards.

"You have a conference call," he said to Barney.

"Excuse me," Barney excused himself.

So now they were on the roof and Barney was getting two cans of beer from the mini-fridge.

"Ted just called," Marshall said. Barney hummed for him to go on. "He says Robin's getting bummed about her job search, and he has the feeling that she doesn't even care anymore, and that's not good for her."

"So?"

"So he thinks maybe you could pull some strings and get someone to beg her to work for them, or give her an interview or something."

"Don't you think that would make her feel worse when she found out?" Barney asked noncommittally.

"She doesn't necessarily have to know it was you," Marshall suggested. Barney snorted.

"Please. You'll tell Lily, Lily will tell her, I know how it goes."

"What do you care, anyway?" Marshall said. "I don't regret taking this job. Strings are there to be pulled, that's how the world works. She won't take it personally. I didn't."

"But you're—" Barney began, and stopped himself. "No, wait, you're a girl. Go on." Marshall thought of replying that, but it was useless, so he passed.

"All I'm saying is, you know people. You know people who know people. You probably know a lot of people who owe you favors, so you can think of it as collecting some of them." Barney looked at the floor, at his beer, at one of the pigeons flying by, and finally at Marshall again.

"I just don't think it's a good idea for Robin," he said. "It's better for her if she gets out of that hole on her own."

"Well, if you really think so," Marshall said harshly. So maybe he was trying to make Barney feel guilty. Maybe. But Barney wasn't exactly the kind of person who responded to guilt trips, and he was really sure about what he had said, so they finished their beers in silence until Barney came up with a workplace story to tell.

  


*

They were at McClaren's, and Heather joined them this time. Late, as usual — some things never changed, Ted thought.

"So, Robin," she said, "I think I know of a job you might want." Robin looked up, not feeling very excited about it. There weren't any jobs worthy of her. The right one would come along, but for now there were no openings anywhere she might have wanted to work at. She knew. She'd checked. Only today she had checked twice. "Okay, so there's this guy I dated."

"That doesn't sound very appropriate," Ted remarked. Heather ignored him.

"There's this guy I dated who's founded this new cable network," she said. Robin raised her eyebrows. "It's nothing like Metro News 1, though. They don't have a lot of viewers yet, but it's new, they're still getting started. They need a news anchor and I think you'd be perfect for the job."

"What kind of news are we talking about?" Robin asked. It might be worth a try. She wasn't all that busy, anyway.

"Real news," Heather said excitedly. "No stupid stories about talking donkeys or poisoned ice-cream." Robin wondered how much Heather had been told about her old job. "I mean, politics, human interest, finance, all that kind of stuff. They've hired this awesome writer who used to work for the New York Times and everything."

Ted eyed her curiously.

"I know people who know people," she defended herself.

"That sounds pretty good, actually," Robin said, and felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards despite herself. It sounded good. Maybe she wouldn't be famous, but she'd be reading stories written by a New York Times writer. Maybe he'd even won the Pulitzer Prize and everything. That was definitely a positive career choice.

Heather grinned. "Great. I have the address for you, uh." She rummaged through her bag until she found a folded pink post-it and handed it to Robin. "Tomorrow morning, and you can show up anytime from ten to two."

"Thanks, Heather," Robin said politely.

"No prob."

Marshall mouthed _Thank you_ at Barney, and Barney shook his head like he had nothing to do with that.

Marshall frowned.

  


*

Robin was ready to audition at nine thirty, but didn't get to the network building till eleven thirty, because that was too eager even for her, and maybe the job would turn out to be a crappy one like the rest of the interviews she'd gone on that month. Heather had got it for her, which didn't exactly hold a seal of approval from anyone with half a brain, but still — news anchor. Written by a Pulitzer Prize winner. She smiled.

"Okay, just stand over there," a crew guy said, pointing at the table. "Sit on the table or something."

Informal news. That sounded good. Maybe it was news on a sarcastic tone, like Jon Stewart. Robin could roll with that.

"Okay, look at the TelePrompter," the crew guy said. "We're shooting now."

The TelePrompter said, _Good evening, everyone. My name is [your name here], and I'm here to bring you your daily Late News._ Robin smiled. That sounded cool. Typical, but cool.

"Good evening, everyone. My name is Robin Scherbatsky, and I'm—" She stopped.

The TelePrompter said, _(suggestively unbutton your shirt)_.

"What?"

"That's not in the script!" the crew guy called out. "You're supposed to take off your shirt!"

"What?" Robin said, offended now. She stood up. "There's gotta be a mistake, I'm here for the news anchor position, not to play some kind of hotline girl."

The crew guy approached them again and frowned. "This is the news anchor position."

"I was told it was serious news," Robin said, throwing the microphone at the desk.

"It's serious news," the crew guy said, like he didn't see what was wrong with Robin. Robin thought it was pretty obvious.

"It's _naked_ news," Robin pointed out.

"Uh, yeah, that's what the ad said." Robin felt like she was going to be sick.

"Oh my God," she said before leaving.

  


*

So now Robin was at McClaren's with Lily and Barney, plotting ways to kill Ted, first, and then his sister.

Lily looked around suspiciously.

"What?" Robin asked.

"Nothing," Lily said cheerfully. "What were you saying about strangling Ted's sister?"

" _What_?" Robin asked again. Lily looked down at her drink, trying to bite her tongue, to no avail.

"It was Barney," she blurted out. "He got you the interview."

"He what?"

"I did _not_ ," Barney jumped.

"You!" Robin yelled, and there was no way to stop her now. "You sent me to a _porn_ channel?"

"To be fair, it wasn't a porn channel. It was just the late night news," Barney said.

"You're not helping yourself," Lily spat. Robin hit him on the arm.

"You're disgusting," Robin went on. Barney just looked up at her like he would eventually, from sheer desire, disappear into his seat. It wasn't even his fault this time! "You're a despicable human being. I can't believe you sent me to undress myself. That is — that is just _wrong_ , Barney, what the hell."

"I didn't do anything!" he finally said. "I'm not trying to save my own ass, I swear. It was all Heather. Marshall asked me to get anything for you and I told him I wouldn't and I meant it."

"Still not helping your case," Lily pointed out.

"So you didn't think I was good enough for your _friends_?"

"I don't have any friends in the field of television. I don't even have that many contacts there," he said. "And anyway, would you really have accepted my help?" Robin paused to think about that. Maybe she wouldn't have. She hadn't before. "I thought so."

"Well, maybe I would have, if the offer had been... appealing enough," she said, sitting back down.

"And you would have got it. I don't _do_ half favors. And how would you have felt then, huh? Obviously Lily would have told you, and you would have felt like you didn't deserve the job." He would have tried to convince her that she did, but that didn't usually work. "Come on," he pleaded.

Her phone rang.

"Hello?" she said. "Uh huh," she said. "That sounds painful," she said. "Okay," she said. "Bye."

She looked at Barney, then turned to Lily, and smiled stupidly.

"My father's in the hospital. He fell down in the snow and broke a leg." She felt like doing a happy dance or something.

"How can you be happy about that?" Lily said.

"He _broke a leg_. It's not like he's gonna die or something," Robin explained. "It just means I won't have to see him."

"You're gonna have to talk to him eventually," Lily pointed out.

" _Eventually_ ," Robin said with a chuckle. "Eventually can be put off forever. Let's get another round."

  


*

And that's the story of how your aunt Robin got drunk and slept with Barney again.

" _What_?" the kids say, surprised.

I'm just _kidding_. She wouldn't have done that again. You have to wait until she sobered up and decided to call her father and have that talk.

"But she was so happy that she didn't have to," the boy says.

"Yeah!" the girl says. "Why would she change her mind?"

Well, kids, that's the beauty of life: you change your mind for the better.

The girl glares at Ted like she's not that young and her aunt Robin's not that easy to influence.

Okay, okay. What happened was a little less deus ex machina—

" _Dad_ ," the boy says, like his dad's still as pretentious as ever, but Ted thinks that's common knowledge, so he ignores him. He'll have time to think of how their kids' school is not educating them properly later.

—and a little more "your friends know what's best for you".

  


*

After a few drinks, Robin decided to let both Ted and Heather off the hook.

"At least I know that's one channel off the list of channels I may potentially work for. Narrows it down a bit, doesn't it?" Robin downed the remainder of her drink.

"It can't be all naked news, though," Lily pointed out.

"It's not," Robin said, snorting. "It's naked news, naked talk shows, and naked soap operas, for the lady of the house."

Lily grimaced.

  


*

So Barney took Robin laser-tagging — because that's what you did for a bro in need, even if the bro was a girl and you were maybe kind of in love with her but didn't know quite what to do about it — and then he drove her home. Or, you know, hailed a cab for her and rode with her. Not that kind of ride.

She lit up a cigarette on the stairs leading to the front door.

"It's not about that, you know that, right?" Barney questioned.

"It's not about what?"

"The thing with your father. It's not about him treating you like a boy. It's that teenage insecurity thing you have."

"Maybe," Robin muttered.

"Hey," Barney whispered, sitting next to her, stretching his arm out around her, "come here."

And she did, and her eyes watered, and she realized too late that she was also crying, and it was ridiculous. Then he handed her his cellphone.

"Call him," he said.

"I have a functional cellphone, you know," Robin said, suddenly feeling a lot soberer.

"This one was closer," Barney said with a shrug. Robin nodded and dialed.

She was honest like you could only be when you were half drunk, and her father seemed surprised that he had messed her up this much, but then she realized — she realized that he hadn't. That sure, it hadn't been fun to be taken hunting, and taught how to smoke cigars and drink alcohol and play hockey, but it didn't matter that she had been a girl, or a boy, or a seahorse. She probably would have felt the same pressure if he had expected her to be a politician or some other typical career that a parent envisioned for their children. And it had — it had been lifted, and she was working towards being what she wanted to be, and it was okay.

And Barney was there, trying not to make a sound when breathing, and Robin hadn't realized until then that she relied so much on him.

"Thanks," Robin said.

Barney gave her a soft smile, put his cellphone back in his pocket and walked her upstairs.

They didn't sleep together, and they didn't kiss, but Robin felt like it, and Barney — well, Barney was maybe kind of in love with her.

  


*

Robin told Lily first, because Lily was her best friend, and she felt compelled to.

"It's crazy, right?" Robin said, laughing nervously. Lily was still in her pajamas and would have liked to stay in bed a little longer, even though it was already eleven a.m. Lily made a gesture with her hand to mean that it wasn't crazy.

"It's par for the course, really," she said.

"What do you mean by that?" Robin asked.

Lily shrugged.

  


*

So in the afternoon, Robin went to see Barney.

"Hey," he greeted, surprised, and led her into his apartment. She sat on one side of the couch, and he sat down next to her.

She took her time, because she didn't know where to start, or how to put it. That's what she said, she thought, and chuckled to herself.

"I wanted to — I wanted to say thanks."

"You already thanked me," Barney pointed out.

"No, I mean, for not hooking me up with a job. That was thoughtful of you."

Barney raised an eyebrow.

"I know you care about me," Robin went on.

Barney raised his other eyebrow, and at this point she couldn't fight back the need to joke about it at all. She put on her best prepubescently infatuated voice and said,

"Lily told me that you want to be my boyfriend," and snickered, and tried her best not to laugh openly, but she couldn't help the mocking smile.

"What? I never said that," Barney said, very seriously.

And there wasn't much more she could think of to talk about without it being incredibly awkward, so she reached out to grab his neck and kissed him.

They'd work the kinks out later. 

 


End file.
